“I don’t want this. Not without you,”Charlie had said, before pouring all of that color and life back into me.
I’m a man of science. I don’t believe in magic healing.I didn’t believe in ghosts, either, before I met Charlie. And yet, he’d brought both into my life. He’d healed me, he’dsavedme, over and over.
“I think I’ll step out to use the restroom and find some more coffee,” Mom said with a yawn.
I wanted to tell her she should rest instead, but my tongue already felt thick and heavy from the medication, and I could barely keep my eyes open.
Thankfully, Dad was on the same page. “You should go get some sleep, too, Pop,” he said gently.
“I’m not tired,” she replied defensively. “And I need to be here in case he needs anything.”
“I’llbe here, and I’ll call you right away if something changes. He’s going to be fine. Go, get some sleep.”
“I’mfffine,” I echoed, trying to reassure her. “Gosssleep.”
Her soft kiss upon my brow was the last thing I felt before sleep swept me away again.
“Wow, he really does snore like a wombat.”
My eyes flew open.
Tate sat in the chair that Mom had the last time I was awake, arms crossed with a smirk on his face. I rubbed my eyes and scowled. “I do not.”
“Told you that’d get him up.”
My head hurt less when I quickly looked to where Dad had been—or maybe it was just the sight of the man who’d taken his place that made everything else insignificant. “Charlie.”
He smiled, whiskey-brown eyes bright and clear. “Hey there, you wombat.”
He hugged me, harder and stronger than ever before. I wrapped my arms around him as best I could and squeezed back.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I asked, breathing him in. His hair smelled like hospital soap, and my muscles ached from holding him at this angle, but I’d never let go again.
I’ll never let go.
“I’m okay. More than okay,” he whispered, tucking his face into the crook of my shoulder. I probably stank far worse than antibacterial wash.
He pulled away to look at me, settling on the edge of the bed with one leg tucked underneath him. His skin wasn’t ghostly pale anymore. He had a warm, tawny complexion, and the dusting of freckles across his nose deepened, as if he’d just come in from lying in the sun.
“Beautiful,” I murmured, unable to tear my eyes away. I already missed his warmth.
Wait.
“You’re warm,” I said, eyes darting up and down, taking him in as fast as I could. He hadn’t been cold before, but he hadn’t been exactly warm, either. Now, though… Now, he felt alive.
“You’rewarm,”I repeated, my mouth lagging behind my racing thoughts.
Tears spilled down his cheeks. “Yeah. I’m…here,Reece. I don’t understand how.” He lowered his voice, looking toward the door. I realized Tate had stepped out to give us privacy. “But I’m alive. Like,alive,alive.”
I gaped at him. “You mean—wait. What do you mean?”
He laughed, and I brushed my thumb over the tear that settled in one of his dimples. “I mean,I have a heartbeat. My lungs work like they’re thirty years old, not almost seventy. The doctors didn’t look at me like I was a talking corpse when they hooked me up to all those machines. The paperwork was a nightmare. I’m not sure what Tate and that FBI guy said to convince them everything was above board, but Reece. I’malive.”
“You’re… alive?”
He beamed, nodding. “Uh-huh.”
I blinked. “You’re alive.”
